This Feels Right, Don't Say Goodnight
by Boys Should Kiss Boys More
Summary: Kurt wears skirts, and Sebastian really enjoys it.


_I had the sudden urge to write Kurt wearing a skirt, and Kurtbastian-so I threw the two urges together and this happened!_

_Title comes from 'Party In Your Bedroom' by Cash Cash. Enjoy~_

* * *

Kurt feels eyes on him, and he stops mid-bend.

"Oh please, no, don't stop on my account." A voice oozing smugness sounds. There's a brief bout of clapping, and then, "very nice, Hummel, I never really knew what a great ass you had."

And _then_, the incorrigible bastard has the nerve to slap his ass, purposely missing the skirt so that all that separates Sebastian's hand from Kurt's bare ass, is a thin pair of leggings.

Kurt stands quick and rigid, but before he can snap indignantly, Sebastian is gone, out the door of the Lima Bean. Momentarily, Kurt thanks a god he doesn't believe him that no one saw the blatant display of lewd behavior. He huffs, and flattens his skirt in the back before bending at the knees—rather than the waist—to retrieve his bag he'd dropped.

)

"Again, Hummel? Do you believe in pants or is it against your religion?"

Kurt glares at the book he's trying to read, and sets his jaw tight, determined to ignore Sebastian.

"C'mon, stand up and do a little twirl for me. Let me see what's under your skirt."

_'It's not a skirt it's a kilt'_ dies on Kurt's tongue when a hand, warm and a little shaky, lands on his neck, rubbing gently the skin, his hairline. "No," is all he can manage.

Sebastian hums in a tune of disappointment, "too bad. Maybe next time."

Kurt stands and snaps, "there won't be a next time, Smythe!" And as he's shushed by the wrinkly old librarian, Sebastian shoots him a wink and struts out of the library, cool as a motherfucking cucumber, the bastard.

)

Kurt is dancing by himself, and _loving it_ might he had, when two hands land on his hips and something that is _definitely_ excited to see him slides across the thin fabric of his skirt, warm between the layers, burning his skin.

"Sebastian," he greets coolly as he can.

A smirk presses into his neck, and a brief moment is taken on Sebastian's part to suckle a hickey into Kurt's neck. "Hey,"

"What a funny coincidence seeing you here."

The hands previously stationed at his waist begin to roam, crawling up and tickling down his sides; they're distracting, and between the booze pumping in him and the music blaring, Kurt almost misses what Sebastian says. "So, tell me honestly, what is it with you and skirts?"

"Are they a problem?" Kurt asks instinctively.

Sebastian laughs and shakes his head, hair tickling Kurt's cheek. "Not in the slightest." To make a point, both his hands slide down and he rubs his thumbs along the edge of Kurt's skirt, fiddling with the sleek gray shirt tucked into it. "In fact," Sebastian's breath ghosts in his ear, taunting. "I really, _really_ enjoy them," instead of slipping to his cock, growing harder by the second, Sebastian's hand dips instead farther to Kurt's balls, fondling them through the white cotton tights.

Kurt shakes against him. "Sebastian," fell from his mouth a breathless gasp, sticking to Sebastian's neck as his hand works insistently, grazing over Kurt's dick and sliding fully around to play along the crack of his ass.

"Mm, so hot. Does anyone else know this makes you hard? Dressing up?"

"It's fashion,"

"It's _sex_," and the word oozes into Kurt's ears, flowing from Sebastian's lips like sweet candy to his sense. Kurt goes completely lax against him. "You're a little slut, aren't you?"

Kurt's mind is foggy and he isn't sure what, exactly, is happening. He hasn't been sure of anything since the first encounter at the Lima Bean. Sebastian threw him off kilter constantly: trying to steal Blaine, then _not_ trying to steal Blaine; trying to help David and then trying to almost, kind of, but not _really_ befriend Kurt. And now this, _all_ of this, whatever it was.

Kurt turns his head and catches himself focusing far too heavily on Sebastian's lips. "Not here," he murmurs, and Sebastian's crestfallen face is laughable (and that's exactly what Kurt does) before continuing. "Your place?"

"Sure," Sebastian replies after a moment of apparent consideration. He grins, then, and tugs Kurt towards the door. Kurt laughs, giddy, and allows himself to be pulled. The bouncer stops them, scrutinizing them, and Kurt thanks Sebastian for being obviously more sober than himself, because Sebastian retorts with "we're hailing a cab, asshole," and while Kurt is a little sad they probably won't be able to come back to this club, it's worth it.

In the cab, with the driver shooting them dirty yet amused looks, Kurt can't help but love the way Sebastian's fingertips dance under the skirt, plucking and pulling at his tights. There's a hole worn into them by the time they get to Sebastian's house, and Sebastian has taken to slipping his finger into it, brushing along the slightly hairy skin of Kurt's thigh.

Kurt lands against Sebastian's bedroom door in what feels like a blink of the eye; one minute they're up the porch steps and inside the foray, and the next they're up the stairs kissing furiously against a door. Kurt winds his arm around Sebastian's neck and lets Sebastian push him into the room.

"Mm, you're gonna keep the skirt on, right?"

"Will you pay the bill if you pop your cork too early and stain it?"

Sebastian leans back, slightly affronted and very taken aback. "Sure?"

Kurt smirks and nods, falling onto the bed, "then yes, I'll keep it on."

The strangled moan that claws its way into the room, right out of Kurt's dirtiest fantasies, is possibly the best part of the entire night.

(That's a lie. There was no way to single out _one_ best part.)

Kurt struggles to get his shirt off, and as he does Sebastian mimics him; once those bits of clothing are out of the way, Kurt takes a moment to admire something he'd never thought he'd be faced with—Sebastian, Sebastian's bare chest. _Sex_ with Sebastian Smythe.

But, Kurt reminds himself, just because it was odd didn't it make it a bad thing. Not in the least.

Sebastian, when Kurt comes out of his short little haze, is unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the ground before crawling on the bed over Kurt. "Shit, you're so hot."

Kurt beams, unable to resist the compliment. "I think I'll look a whole lot better if you get these tights off me."

Sebastian groans and drops his head to Kurt's, barely ghosting over his lips in a kiss. "Why did you never tell me what a fucking _sex kitten_ you are?"

Kurt pauses, and while he's quiet Sebastian takes initiative and tugs down the stockings, throwing them somewhere else. "You bring out the worst in me?"

"If this is your worst then I think your best might kill me in a fit of sexual perfection."

"What a way to go,"

Sebastian stops and actually cracks up, completely obliterating the "just for kicks" atmosphere that had been permeating the room prior. Kurt smiles, cupping Seb's face as the laughter settles; he pulls Sebastian into a kiss, slow and languid.

"Kurt, Jesus, you're not wearing underwear."

"Who needs it?"

Sebastian groans again, like he just can't believe Kurt is real—and he voices as much. "I bet you've got the sweetest ass, prettiest dick, so hot." Kurt pants, and spreads his legs wider. "Can you—I want you to ride me. Is that.. okay?"

Kurt is startled by how hard his hips jerk at the thought of riding Sebastian until the fucking sun comes up, and he isn't about to say no. Sebastian slithers to lay beside him on the bed, and kisses him a littler harder before tugging Kurt into his lap. "Look at you, so hot for it."

"Yeah," Kurt moans breathless, bouncing against the friction of Sebastian's boxer-brief covered cock. "Hurry up and finger me you asshole,"

"Actually, _your_ asshole."

"You are awful and if you make another joke like that I'm leaving."

The desperate note in Sebastian's voice is enough to keep Kurt around, "no no no, I'll shut up, I swear." Kurt smirks and motions vaguely, waving his hand and looking slightly upset.

"Lube?" He asks.

Sebastian almost knocks Kurt out of his lap with the force he exerts to reach just beside the bed and grab a half-empty bottle of lube. Kurt plants his hands firmly on Sebastian's shoulders, shivering when Seb draws circles into the skin of Kurt's ass with the far too cold lubricant. It warms, though, the closer it gets to his hole and the more Sebastian works it between his fingers.

Finally, after what feels like an unfair amount of teasing, Sebastian slips two fingers into Kurt and wastes no time in thrusting, jerking them, curling them against his walls. Kurt shudders, pressing his knees into the bed to ride, to speed up the pace and fuck himself onto Sebastian's fingers harder. Seb can't deny the way his eyes are drawn to the side of his hand disappearing between Kurt's thighs, disappearing underneath the skirt that flops and flips and rucks up the harder they fuck.

"Okay, okay, okay, now get in me now." Kurt pleads, pressing himself cheek to cheek with Sebastian and licking the shell of his ear. "Fuck me, fuck me, please,"

Sebastian lets his fingers slide out of Kurt, and his heart and dick ache for Kurt because of the noise of loss that escapes his lips. Hurrying and fumbling a bit with more lube for his dick, Sebastian shakily guides himself home, sliding slowly into Kurt until the skirt is flaring flat against his abs and his thighs.

Kurt shudders, a wave of pleasure running directly up his spine and sending numbing sensations through his shoulders to his fingertips, to his head, to the very tips of his toes; it's dizzying, the arousal, and the burn, and the sheer simplicity of a _skirt_ making everything so damn hot.

Sebastian's hands find his hips again, and with surprising ease Kurt can feel himself being lifted and dropped in a rhythmic motion, with Sebastian's own hips fucking up into him at random times, throwing the whole rhythm to shit. But it's a wonderful glide of pleasure, with just a slight hint of burning pain to give it that perfect kick. Kurt works his legs, bouncing up and down and throwing a third beat to their fucking, which really only makes them more out of sync and hips bucking wildly a clean fuck make—instead it's messy, and the lube is slick and a little gross the way it's spread on Kurt's ass, and both their thighs. There's precome, _a lot_; it's staining the front of the skirt where Kurt's dick is pressed into it, and it's smeared with the lube when Sebastian missed his first few times entering.

Kurt kisses Sebastian on impulse, biting his lip and tugging on it. "Good, is it—is it good?" He manages to gasp out, one hand fiddling with the skirt so that he can properly jerk himself off.

"You're just so fucking hot in general," Sebastian moans as he drops his head back, hitting the headboard. "I'd fuck you in anything at this point."

Kurt chuckles softly, but it melts into a moan when Sebastian starts hitting just the right spot; he presses down and rolls his hips against Seb, taking him in deeper and harder.

"Y'gonna come, Kurt? Gonna come for me, all over your pretty skirt?"

Kurt's breath hitches and he comes on his hand, spilling over his fingers indeed onto the skirt and down to Sebastian's stomach; Kurt doesn't relent in his bouncing, though, instead moving faster still, working more to bring Sebastian over the brink as well. It doesn't take long: the sight and the sounds, and three five seven more thrusts and Sebastian is coming deep inside Kurt, filling him.

Their breathing comes down slowly, harshly and in spurts. Kurt slumps forward, feeling spineless and spent and thoroughly sated. He laughs and smiles, looking up at Sebastian.

"That was.."

"Amazing?"

Kurt grins, and doesn't agree but Sebastian notes that he also doesn't disagree, so he counts it as a win. Sebastian holds Kurt steady as he pulls out, and laughs when Kurt makes a face at the feeling of come inside him, dripping. When Kurt tries to stand, Sebastian simply grabs him and tucks him under the covers along side his own sweaty body.

"Sebastian—?"

"I'll pay for the cleaning of your damn skirt and I'll make you breakfast. If you stay the night."

Kurt grins and molds himself against Sebastian, sleep already pulling at his eyelids. "Fine. But I don't like eggs."

"Bacon?"

"Of course."

Sebastian smiles as he presses a kiss to Kurt's hair. "My kind of guy."

"Anyone with a dick is your kind of guy, Sebastian."

"I like you, Kurt."

"So I gathered."

"No, like, I mean—?"

"I know what you mean, Sebastian."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

Kurt hums, and tucks his face against the pillow and between Seb's neck and said pillow. "Sleep, we'll talk in the morning." He kisses Sebastian one last time then drifts to sleep. Sebastian, grinning so wide it hurts, does the same not much later.


End file.
